


Not a Walk In the Park

by perniciousLizard



Series: The Spark [5]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Picnics, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 04:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7670911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perniciousLizard/pseuds/perniciousLizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not a walk in the park - a picnic!  Sans decides he doesn't mind a picnic date.  You mostly just laze around on a blanket, get some sun, and defend your food from a killer robot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Walk In the Park

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: **Would you do cute, romantic Mettasans?! Like maybe they have a picnic**
> 
> Thanks to [tatzebea](http://tatzebea.tumblr.com/) for the prompt!

This wasn’t so bad.  They’d picked a perfect day for it.  The sun was bright and shining and the warmth sunk into Sans’ bones as he lay back on their blanket.  

Mettaton had rolled off to take a call, so Sans had a minute to get a quick cat nap in.  

When Mettaton first suggested a picnic, the idea had sounded, uh, overly cutesy for Sans.  MTT could go ahead and do that, with someone else. There were plenty of places the two of them could eat without making it into a weird _thing_.  Whatever they were doing kept turning into a weird thing, and Sans thought maybe he knew the name for what it was, but he wasn’t planning on admitting it.

There were worse ideas for hanging out than a picnic, it turned out.  MTT had shared a whole collection of those.  Sans _had_ promised he’d keep in touch.  

So, here they were.  Out in a secluded place on a nice day.  Mettaton had a sundress on and a huge brimmed hat, and the blanket was emblazoned with his face and logo, all in glitter. Sans had almost bailed when he saw the blanket, but he was glad he didn’t.  

He was going to be dealing with glitter stuck in his joints for the next couple weeks.  He could see some caught in the corner of his eyesocket, already.  He just had to think of it as a little reminder of their time together that he got to carry around with him.  Right.

He nodded off, a half-eaten sandwich forgotten on his ribcage.  

A hand patting the side of Sans’ face woke him up.  That hand was warmer than his sun-heated bones.  

“SANS.”

He was too comfortable to open his eyes.  He remembered the sandwich, and considered making an effort anyway.  

“BEAUTIFUL.”

“who?”

“I’M LOOKING AT HIM.  WAKE UP, DARLING.”  There was a loud click and the sound of shifting metal.

Sans opened his eyes, and Mettaton was in his EX form, hands on either side of him, hovering.  

“that was a long call.”  

“Sorry, sorry.  You know how it is.”  Mettaton leaned in.  

“sure.”

“But I came back here, and I just saw something delicious.”  He winked, and picked the half eaten sandwich off Sans’ chest.  

Sans snorted.  "hey.  you even get anything out of eating that?“

"Hm.   Enough, I think.  The satisfaction of watching your face while I eat it in front of you?”  

“see, it’s moments like these that really remind me why it’s so important to preserve our friendship.”  

Mettaton laughed and kissed him on the cheek.  "You are _so_ right.“

Yeah, there was a name for what was going on here.  Sans shoved that word away, but he let Mettaton stick around.  It wasn’t bad, having a guy nearby who wanted to kiss you on a day like this one.  

Sans rested his hand on Mettaton’s hip.  

"Did you have a plan for that hand, darling?”  

“no.”  But he did have one for the other one.  He tried to steal back his sandwich, before Mettaton ate the last of it.  

He almost got it, too, before Mettaton realized what he was doing. There was a brief struggle, until the entire weight of Mettaton’s body pinned him to the ground.  

“Oh, I’m just so hungry!” Mettaton said.  

“mmf.” One of his hands was free, but Sans couldn’t see well enough to grab for his lunch.  There were a few ways out of this situation, but he’d been comfortable and he didn’t want to move.  He just had to wait this out.  His hand twitched.  Maybe he could convince Mettaton he was suffocating to death under there.  

“I suppose it’s true; you _do_ need it more than I do.”  He sighed.  "Oh well!  How terrible for you!“  

Sans let his hand go slack.  He was clearly on the brink of death.  

"Well, I am much too warm-hearted for my own good.”  He set the sandwich in Sans’ hand, without moving otherwise.  "All yours, Sans.“  

Sans tried to make a gesture that he thought would get his opinion across, but there was too great a risk that he would drop the food. He was going to have to get up, and he was more annoyed about that than anything else.  

Mettaton let out a surprised yelp as he fell flat on his stomach onto the blanket.  He turned his head and looked up.  Sans was standing on his back, calmly eating.  

"hey, thanks.”  There was more food in the picnic basket, but that wasn’t the point.  

Mettaton rolled over, trying to knock him down.  Now Sans was standing on his stomach.  

“So, it’s good?” Mettaton asked, in a conversational tone.  

“whoever’s cooking for you knows what they’re doing,” Sans said.  "here.“ He broke off a piece and sat down on Mettaton’s stomach to hand it to him.  

He tried it.  "Well, it’s lacking a little pizzazz, but I think that’s because you just gave me bread.  They can keep their job.”

“good bread, though.”  He stayed on his seat and reached over into the basket.  "you want anything in here?“

Mettaton sighed, long suffering.  "I suppose that bit of bread you gave me will have to do, darling.  Thank you for thinking of me.”  

Sans dropped a bag of chips on his face.  "try these.  there’s a lightning bolt on the logo, so they’re probably healthy for you.“

"Oh, and now you’re worried about my health!  How considerate.”  

Sans unwrapped the other sandwich, the one that was probably actually intended for Mettaton, and reached into his pocket for a ketchup packet.  He slowly removed his hand.  It was coated in red.  "aw, geez.  i had twelve packets in there, and now it looks like i murdered a human."  This was the worst.  

"Well, it can’t be a good date without a little tragedy to balance out the rest of it,” Mettaton explained.  He laughed.  "Here, let me get you a napkin.“  His arm got a little longer and he grabbed a wad of them out of the basket.  He started wiping ketchup off of Sans’ hand.  "You may—gasp!—even have to wash your jacket!”  

“this was your plan all along.  you’re in cahoots with my bro.”  

“You have no idea how many hours of my day go into planning how to trick you into doing your own laundry.”  

“all of ‘em, right?”

Mettaton wore a look of intense concentration.  "Things really do get wedged in between your bones, don’t they?“  He had gotten most of the red off, but the rest wasn’t coming until Sans rinsed it.  Now he was going to have to take a shower, too.  

But Sans usually did after, uh, _dates_ with Mettaton anyway, since he got the smell of MTT brand cologne stuck on him and there was no other way to get it off.  

"yeah.”

Mettaton sighed and let go of Sans’ hand.  Sans immediately reached back into his pocket to try and find an un-exploded packet.

“Oh my god, darling!”

He couldn’t find one.  He was sure there was one in there, somewhere. Maybe he could just…rub his hand on the sandwich?  All the pocket lint on there, plus the dime stuck to his palm, made that not an appetizing option.  

“I’m sure there’s a full bottle in the basket!”  Mettaton grabbed at his hand, again, but Sans moved it away.  

“oh. heh.  shoulda checked, i guess.  well, i’m full, anyway.”  He shrugged.  "now i’m feeling kind of romantic."  Since it was a date, apparently.  

"If you put that hand on me, Sans, I will pull it off and hang it as a trophy on my wall!”  

“aw, c'mon, babe.  just let me, uh, caress your face plate.”  He didn’t actually move.  

Mettaton grabbed onto Sans’ radius like it was a handle, and pushed his arm away.  "I wouldn’t test me on this, sweetheart!"

"ok, ok.  testing someone sounds like a lot of work, anyway,” Sans said.  "count me out."  He reclaimed his arm and wiped his hand pretty thoroughly on the blanket.  

Mettaton made a face at that.  "Fine.   _Now_ you can be as romantic as you like." 

"but i can’t think of anything more romantic than writing my name on your face with ketchup.”  

“It’s difficult to imagine,” he said.  He sighed, and stretched his arms around Sans.  "Well, either way, thank you for coming along.  You’re actually a difficult friend to keep in touch with."

"look who’s talking.  takes a call as soon as we get here.”  

“I suppose I _am_ in very high demand.”  

“yeah.”

Ok. He admitted it, finally, to himself.  They were on a date.  He probably should have guessed that was what they were doing ahead of time when he listened to that voice mail message from MTT that said: “Let’s go on another date soon, handsome!”  

Mettaton was always fake-flirting with him, though.  Sure, the last time they hung out Sans ended up with lipstick stains all over his skull, and the time before that he’d spent the night sleeping in Mettaton’s bed, but…

Sometimes even when he took a shower right after they hung out, the smell of Mettaton’s cologne continued to linger regardless.  It smelled like a bad decision he was just going to keep making.  

Tough to see it as a bad decision now from where he was sitting.  He put his hands on Mettaton’s chest plate.  He didn’t know why he was suddenly so nervous.  Almost felt like he was sweating.  

He tried not to let on.  "huh.“  He had to clear his throat. "you know, maybe i can imagine something almost as good, though.”  

“Almost as good as writing on my face?”  

“maybe.”

He leaned down.  

Picnics were all right.  Not a bad idea for a date.  


End file.
